


Flour

by BalladOfASkinnyLegend



Category: Bob Dylan (Musician), The Beatles (Band), The Travelling Wilburys (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23564290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalladOfASkinnyLegend/pseuds/BalladOfASkinnyLegend
Summary: Bob and George are finding it hard to enjoy themselves through the quarantine.
Relationships: Bob Dylan/George Harrison
Kudos: 29





	Flour

The boredom loomed on them both more prominently than ever. Of course, Bob and George couldn’t always find it in themselves to be productive, but they’d never felt this utterly exhausted before.  


They’d been in quarantine for nearly a month now. Bob wasn’t optimistic about it since day one. Although he’d tried to be productive through it all, it didn’t take long for him to become overwhelmed by the lack of freedom. George had been trying to distract himself with his gardening and meditation. He really thought it’d work at first, but everything soon started driving him absolutely mad. Basically, both of the boys weren’t feeling too hot.

“We’re out of flour.” George pointed out, hands on his hips and brow slightly furrowed in agitation.

“Mm.” Bob hummed, gaze unmoving.

George sighed, or grunted, rather, and flicked the kitchen towel onto his shoulder. He moved to stand in front of where Bob was sitting in an attempt to draw his attention.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to help with the cooking, at least.”

“You know,” Bob mocked “‘m not hungry anyway. Why should I help cook something I ain’t even gonna eat.”

The bridge of George’s nose was quickly met with his thumb and index finger. Another, this time deeper and much more calculated, sigh came from deep in his chest.

If it hadn’t seemed fruitless, George would’ve argued. “You always say that, Bob” He’d spit. “I’m not the one that eats all the leftovers so there’s nothing left when George is hungry later so he uses all the flour to make pancakes, Bob.”

By the time the taller of the two snapped out of his very, very frustrating inner monologue, Bob’s eyes were fixed on his face, eyebrows knit in remorse and a frown twisting his face in the most heartbreaking fashion. George decided it was time to calm down. He made room for himself to sit next to Bob.

“You don’t have to pretend I don’t piss you off.” Bob’s curly head was finally allowed to rest on the sofa back.

“You don’t piss me off, I just miss old, happy, hopeful you.”

The silence rang through the room. George worried he had hurt Bob’s feelings. And if he truly had, he’d never really get to know – Bob isn’t the type to let a person in on his authentic thoughts and George certainly wasn’t known for prying. He hoped Bob liked him enough not to wear a mask.

Bob raised his head and pushed himself off of the sofa for a moment before repositioning himself so that he could lean on George. Then, He listened to the heartbeat for a moment or two. George just wrapped his lanky arms around the other boy and ran his nimble hands over his back.

“I miss the old, happy, hopeful you, too.”

“Come on now-“ George grinned.

Bob didn’t want to say anything. Well, he wanted to, but he couldn’t. He decided to compromise with himself.

“You don’t piss me off either, y’know.” A smile graced his lips.

They stayed like that for a minute or two, with Bob on George’s chest and George’s hands on Bob’s back. It felt like their own little world.

George gently swatted at Bob’s shoulder. “You’re coming with me to get more flour, the store closes soon, c’mon.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Bob whispered as the two of them regrettably had to unravel.


End file.
